


Somewhere Sweet to Land

by 2012bookworm



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 21:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12021708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2012bookworm/pseuds/2012bookworm
Summary: Nursey finds the scars on Will's skin.





	Somewhere Sweet to Land

**Author's Note:**

> CW: In-depth discussion of past self-harm. See endnotes for details.

Nursey was kissing down his sternum, slow, and Will was doing his best not to fist his hands in Nursey’s hair. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull him back up to his mouth or shove him down to his crotch, or maybe just hold on to some part of him, but Nursey didn’t really like people messing with his hair, and Will was being good. He grabbed a handful of the sheets instead, and arched up when Nursey tongued a spot just under his bellybutton.

 

“Jeez, Nurse.” He moaned, eyes shut. He felt Nursey rest his chin on his stomach and opened bleary eyes to see his Cheshire-cat grin.

 

“We’re trying for slow, remember?” Nursey moved back up a couple inches and started over. Will let his head fall back on a groan.

 

And yeah, he’d been all in favor of that plan – slow being something they hadn’t managed yet in their new-ish relationship, especially with the semi-desperate need that still sprung up under their skins. But quick was also easier in a Haus with thin walls, and while Chowder knew, but no one else did yet, and so they’d become experts at quick handjobs, at half-dressed blowjobs, at rubbing off against each other in the dark, stifling any noise. But this semester the Haus was empty except for the Frogs on Tuesday afternoons, and Chowder was happy to leave them alone as long as next week they’d fuck off when he brought Caitlin over. So they, for once, had several hours alone and Nursey, it turned out, liked to tease.

 

Which is how Will had ended up here, stretched out naked in the late afternoon winter sunlight, his foot nearly off the edge of the twin mattress, eyes shut, gasping, with Nursey finally, _finally_ moving down…. And skipping completely over Will’s straining erection to kiss the inside of his lower thigh.

 

He made a disgusted noise. Nursey chuckled, which tickled, and started moving up, hands sliding up the outside of Will’s thighs while his mouth traced the inside, and Will shivered and tried not to explode, because he was _so close_ until Nursey suddenly stopped.

 

“Really? _Come on_ , Derek.” He said, managing to prop himself up on his elbows and doing his best to muster up a withering glare. Nursey was just staring at the inside of his thigh, and Will was about to ask what the hell was so interesting when his hand moved to brush over one of the old scars. Will barely managed not to flinch. Nursey traced it with a finger and then skipped up to a different one and _fuck_ , it wasn’t like he’d forgotten but he kind of had, and while they weren’t exactly noticeable unless you were really looking, Nursey was _looking_.

 

“Will?” Nursey asked, soft, quiet, weirdly calm. “Are these….?”

 

He didn’t finish the sentence, and Will fought against the desire to close his legs, draw his knees up to his chest, hide. No one was supposed to _know_. “Yeah. It… it was a long time ago, don’t worry about it.”

 

“ _Will_.” And now Nursey sounds stricken, and that’s it. Will scoots back until he’s sitting against the headboard, ignoring the way Nursey clenches his leg for a moment before letting go, and pulls out his best dry tone.

 

“Can we move on, or is this one of those things you feel we need to discuss?” _Please move on_ , he thinks, _Please, for once just let it go_.

 

“Um…” Nursey starts, and there’s the answer in a single syllable. Will sighs and gets up to pull on his boxers. He refuses to do this naked. He grabs his shirt as well, just for the illusion of less vulnerability, before sitting back down against the headboard. It takes Nursey a second to get it, but soon enough he scrambles to grab his underwear and ends up sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning against the ladder. He stares. Will raises an eyebrow at him. He’s not the one who wants to talk it out, or whatever.

 

Nursey blinks. “Oh. I guess I should…. start.” Will raises the eyebrow higher. Nursey fidgets. “Umm… when, I guess?”

 

“Sophomore year of high school.” Will answers, then pauses, considering. “Well, maybe a little bit that summer before, too, but the – scars – are from sophomore year.”

 

Nursey nods, sharp. “And you…. Haven’t? Since?”

 

“Nope.” Though he wonders, sometimes, if he’s just transferred it to hockey – what the line is between playing as hard as you can and seeking out the hits.

 

“Oh. That’s… that’s good.” Nursey bites his lip, can’t seem to decide if it would be better to look at Will or the bedspread.

 

Will rubs a hand over his face. He’s both tired and still sort of keyed up, and this is not how he planned on spending the afternoon, and he doesn’t talk about this. Hasn’t ever really talked about this. “Nurse. Derek. Just – just ask.”

 

Nursey stretches out his foot and hooks it behind Will’s ankle, staring at that singular point of contact. Will looks at it, too, the way Nursey’s foot flexes against his Achilles.  “Why?”

 

“Because.” Will shrugs. It always sounds stupid when he tries to put it into words, even to himself, but he also knows that Nursey won’t let him get away with that answer. “I was working on my uncle’s boat and got cut on something and thought how good the blood looked sliding over my skin. And… I don’t know. Maybe it was a reminder that I wasn’t a ghost. Maybe it was just that it was something secret, and a little wicked, and all mine. I don’t – it wasn’t logical. It… it just was.”

 

“And – and no one noticed?” Nursey murmurs, still not making eye contact.

 

Will shakes his head. “It’s – it’s easy to hide stuff like that, when you’re a teenaged boy working a weekend job where minor injuries are pretty much the norm.” He hesitates, wonders if he should admit to the next bit. “Some of – some of my other fishing scars are self-inflicted.”

 

Nursey looks up at him then, sharp. “Which ones?”

 

Now it’s Will’s turn to look away. _Not all of them_ , he considers saying, or maybe, _Enough_ , but what comes out is, “Does it matter?”

 

“ _Yes_.” Nursey say, vehement, then stops, sighs. “No. Sort of? I…it feels like it should matter.”

 

They sit there, silent, for a while, not looking at each other. Will picks at the bedspread. He doesn’t know what else to say, isn’t sure what to do next, if they’re done, if he should leave, where they go from here. “I should –“

 

“Why’d you stop?” Nursey interrupts, the question both hesitant and too loud. “I mean, did you get help, is there something someone did?”

 

He laughs, a huff of breath. “My uncle’s sternman nearly cut his hand off one day. There was – it was bad. Blood didn’t seem so pretty anymore. And well, things were getting better. I’d found – friends.”

 

“And that – that was it?” Nursey sounds, confused, disbelieving. Will gets it. He knows it doesn’t make sense, isn’t supposed to work like that, but it did for him. He shrugs again.

 

“Like I said, not logical. And it wasn’t like I stopped thinking about it, I just stopped doing it.” He pauses, says as matter-of-fact as he can manage. “Then, eventually, I mostly stopped thinking about it.”

 

“God, Will…” Nursey reaches for him. He turns away, keeps talking for some reason.

 

“The thigh ones were the worst.” Except for the one under his right arm. “I – a few of those, I was trying to leave a mark. Wanted… something permanent, I guess.”

 

Nursey makes a sad noise, and he stops, doesn’t elaborate on the way it felt like everything was changing, his brother moved out, his mom taking a new job and suddenly gone more than normal, the way he grew six inches and was suddenly on the Varsity hockey team. He doesn’t try to explain the odd satisfaction he got from the cuts, the scars, the proof that his body was still his, that some things stayed. He gets up, restless. It’s just memories, and they’re dulled now, nearly five years later, but if he thinks about it hard enough he can still taste the loneliness like copper on his tongue, and it sucks. He’s been good at forgetting.

 

“Wait.” Nursey grabs at him, catches his shirt hem, and Will stops, but doesn’t turn around. He hears Nursey scramble out of the bed before he trips and collides into Will’s back, almost sending them both to the floor. “Sorry! Just….” He wraps his arms around Will. “Thank you. For telling me.”

 

“I haven’t, before.” He says, staring at the wooden floor of their room.

 

“Haven’t what?” Nursey asks.

 

“Told anyone.” He lets out a shuddering breath. “But it’s – it’s really not a big deal, ok?”

 

“Ok.” Nursey mutters into his shoulder, but he doesn’t let go.

 

***

 

It’s two weeks later, when they have the Haus to themselves again, that Nursey pushes him onto the bed and carefully kisses every scar. He’s breathing too hard and too quick, and there’s a lump in his throat and tears threatening his eyes, but Nursey just kisses him, slow and soft, before pulling away with a wicked glint in his eyes.

 

“Next time, it’s going to be every freckle.”

 

Will finds himself laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Nursey finds old self-harm scars on Will. Cue a discussion of why, which includes some pretty honest confessions from Will that could be triggering, including (non-graphic) mentions of blood.


End file.
